


Children of the Night

by Enigel



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Community: cabinpres_fic, Crack, Gen, Humour, Telekinesis, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-22
Updated: 2011-03-22
Packaged: 2017-10-17 05:28:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/173403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enigel/pseuds/Enigel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The CP meme suggested supernatural creatures, and this sprang up in what passes for my mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Children of the Night

Martin was already slumped down in his seat when Douglas strode onto the flight deck.

"Morning, Captain," Douglas said cheerily, lowering himself gracefully into his own seat, "you look very... morning-like today."

"Morning, Douglas." Martin gave him a bleary sideways look, and then, unexpectedly, sniffed the air. "You... smell great today."

Douglas raised his eyebrows at the strange compliment. Martin made himself smaller, although, remarkably, he didn't blush. Perhaps Sir was coming to terms with awkwardness, Douglas thought absently, which was a great move considering that all signs pointed towards awkwardness being his constant companion.

"Douglas." Martin shuffled in his seat. "Is that... blood on your neck?"

"Oh, that? I cut myself shaving," he lied with the ease of practice. The lie was less glorious than 'I got into a fight with a werewolf', but it was safer.

"You've never... cut yourself... shaving."

Martin's voice shook, and Martin's eyes were transfixed on Douglas' throat.

"That's a bit... too much blood. You should have someone look at it."

"Hm, it seems I do. Martin!"

Martin's eyes snapped to his.

"You _are_ looking, rather insistently, I might add."

"Oh. Sorry," Martin muttered. After a few moments his eyes were on Douglas again.

Douglas tried to ignore him, and focused his attention on the control panel.

The next moment, Martin's tongue was lapping at the cut, and his mouth was firmly attached to Douglas' throat.

"Ow! What the... Martin!"

Douglas tried to push him away, but pale and skinny as he was, the illustrious Captain proved stronger than anticipated.

'What the hell,' Douglas thought, and pushed Martin away with his mind, rather than his hands.

Martin was flung back in his chair and sat there looking horrified.

"Oh God!" he gasped.

"Sorry, Captain, but I just don't think of you that way," Douglas said carefully.

"Oh God, oh God! I'm so sorry, it won't happen again, please don't kill me!"

"It's all right, no harm done."

There was something deeply unsettling about the way Martin was still licking his lips. His eyes were looking anywhere but at Douglas.

"I-I can't move," Martin said, with an edge of a different kind of panic.

"Hm, frozen in horror at what you have done?" Douglas said airily, grateful that deflective conversational maneuvers were his second nature. "It's all right, I know I'm irresistible. I'll try to take it as a compliment and not hold it against you."

It took Douglas an effort of will to relinquish his telekinetic hold on Martin. Either he was less secure in his masculinity than he thought, or his instincts told him there was more to the unexpected attack than met the eye.

Martin mumbled something, gazing fixedly at the control panel, and then both pilots busied themselves with the flight preparations.

Douglas was still thinking, however. He took in Martin's pale skin, and the lack of any physical signs of distress other than the stricken look of horror. No sweat, no rapid breathing... No way, he thought.

* * *

"Everything all right with the van, Martin?"

Martin was disconcerted enough by the change of subject to forget to wonder about the possible purpose of the question.

"What? Er, yes. Why?"

"You don't seem to fill your uniform quite as well as you used to - physically, I mean - and if you were any paler you could do stunts for Frosty the Snowman."

"What, what do you mean, what are you getting at?"

"I couldn't help wondering if your job wasn't interfering with your primary source of income."

"No, business is just fine."

It's just that my blood supplier has been arrested and I've been reduced to hunting rats while I find a new one, thought Martin. He didn't think that would go over very well.

"Hm. So when has your lustful attraction to me started?"

The change in subject was intentional, it had to be, Martin thought resentfully, before realising just what the new subject was. Oh God.

"I have to say, you've been rather good at hiding it until today. Or is it a new thing?"

"Douglas..." Martin stared really hard at the horizon level.

"Was it the last time we shared hotel rooms and I sang O Sole Mio in the shower that did it?"

"Douglas..." The altimeters were obstinately calm, but maybe if Martin stared at them really hard, they could show some sudden drop in altitude. He could feel Douglas' eyes on him.

"Or is it the cut that unleashed your wild lustful passion?" Douglas' voice thundered on mercilessly. "Do you have... a blood fetish, Captain?"

And that was it, he was caught! Martin thought in terror.

"Oh God, yes, all right, stop it, it's true, I'm a vampire, always have been, please don't give me away, it will never happen again, I swear!"

Run-on sentences were not dangerous when one didn't need to breathe, but Martin stopped because Douglas was looking at him funnily. His bemused expression didn't fit at all with the horror that Martin's dreadful confession should have brought on.

"Really, Martin?"

"What? I thought you had it figured out."

"My money was on weird fetish, really, but I appreciate your quick and efficient cooperation in setting me straight."

A long moment of awkward silence ensued.

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"Aren't you going to be horrified and repulsed at the monster sharing a flight deck with you?"

"Hm. Would you like me to do that?"

"Um. No?"

"I'd like to skip to the part where I make fun of the pale child of the night sharing a flight deck with me."

"Oh."

"M-hm. Much more pleasant that way. But first I'd like to clear some points with you."

"All right." Martin sat back, resigned to hearing the usual rule-setting and establishing of boundaries that, in his experience, followed such revelations.

"For example, I've seen you in the sunlight plenty of times, and your skin didn't seem to be sizzling."

"What? That-that's a myth, like most of the stuff about- us."

"Though to be fair, you don't sparkle, either."

"Ugh, please don't mention those books."

"Fair enough. You definitely indulge in garlic sauce, rather too often for the size of this flight deck, in fact..."

Martin rolled his eyes. He found it difficult to stay gloomy and terrified when there was irritation to be had instead.

"Also a myth. Just so you know, we don't sleep in coffins, either, and I get along with mirrors just fine."

"So you think," Douglas muttered.

"We do have good hearing, though, thank you very much."

Douglas grinned. "I was counting on that. So tell me, your passion for flying..."

"We're not bats," Martin interrupted tetchily. "We don't have wings, it doesn't matter if it's day or night or how old and powerful we are, we can't fly. More's the pity," he added softly.

"So is that why you wanted to be an aeroplane?"

The question caught him by surprise. He bit his lip, pondered a number of sarcastic replies - none came to him, of course - and then answered honestly.

"Yes," he whispered.

Douglas tilted his head, inviting him to go on, and Martin sighed. He didn't need the air, but it was a useful gesture as far as human body language was concerned.

"I was so disappointed when my dad told me it was just a myth. I'd seen all those movies and heard some stories, and I couldn't wait until I was strong enough to fly."

"Hm. So all the rest about your family..."

"It's true, yes. They shunned me because I wouldn't settle for being a night watchman or an accountant, or any other respectable job for a vampire. I just wanted to fly."

"Hmm. Martin?"

"Yes?"

"You're the goofiest creature of the night that I've ever had the pleasure of meeting."

"Oh." Martin couldn't help a small smile. "Really?"

"Why, yes," Douglas said, quirking an eyebrow. "Hands down, the goofiest goof that ever goofed in the night. And that includes a man whose power was to change the shape of his nose - no other body parts, just his nose."

"I meant... about the 'pleasure of meeting'."

"But of course. Provided there won't be any more tongue attack incidents in the future..."

"God, no, I promised-"

"...you're a delight to fly with. Just think of all the chupacabra jokes I have planned for our Buenos Aires trip and you'll feel cheered to the marrow."

"Well. Thanks anyway. For... you know."

"Anytime, Captain Twilight. Anytime."


End file.
